


Getting Grilled

by Rockinmuffin



Series: When You Play With Fire [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Puns, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, Humor, M/M, POV Second Person, Post Pacifist Ending, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rockinmuffin/pseuds/Rockinmuffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you could spontaneously combust from embarrassment, you would.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Grilled

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I love the broners and all but, real talk, I'd touch Grillbz's hot butt.
> 
>  **EDIT:** After weeks of agonizing over my own stupidity, I actually went back through this and changed the Grillbz’s into Grillby’s because I’m done deluding myself. Grillbz is obviously a nickname. Thanks for dealing with me, folks! ;)

It’s not often the three of you get together like this at Grillby’s. Not that you don’t all hang out; it’s just that you don’t generally hang out at Grillby’s. Usually when you find yourself here, it’s just you and Sans. Papyrus isn’t too fond of the greasy food and often laments any restaurant that doesn’t serve pasta can hardly call itself a proper restaurant. But you all agreed to going out together this evening and it’s Sans’ turn to pick the place, so Grillby’s it is.

Sans orders three servings of fries before you even sit down at your table. You think it’s a little rude of him but Grillby seems unperturbed by Sans’ demands and simply nods his head before heading back into the kitchen.

The three of you make pleasant conversation as you wait for your food. Well, mostly just Papyrus. You and Sans are content to sit back and listen.

A story about him training with Undyne turns into a story about him giving her romantic advice which, in turn, evolves into a story about his first date. It takes a lot of effort on your part, but you manage to keep a straight face as he weaves a tale of romance, heartbreak, and finely-aged spaghetti.

“Unfortunately, I couldn’t return their desperate feelings of unbridled love for me! So now we’re happily in the friend zone.”

You smile. “That’s cool that you’re still friends. I have a lot of respect for people who don’t let failed relationships get in the way of their friendship.”

“So… While we’re on the topic of romance,” he darts his eyes, suddenly looking shy, “Is there anyone _you_ like?”

You raise an eyebrow at that. Papyrus is trying to look nonchalant, pretending that he’s not all that invested in your answer, but the sweat forming on the side of his skull is pretty condemning evidence against that. Sans makes no show of hiding his interest, leering at you expectantly.

“I dunno,” you shrug, “I guess Grillby is pretty hot.”

“Grillby?!” Papyrus shouts in surprise, probably a little louder than he intended. “I mean, I guess he’s kind of attractive but certainly there are much more attractive monsters around, like—”

He cuts himself off, distracted by your and Sans’ quiet snickering. The taller skeleton looks confused for a moment before he finally realizes what has just happened.

“OH. MY. GOD!!!” Papyrus narrows his eye sockets as you and Sans laugh harder. “I was being serious!”

“Who says I’m joking?” you say just so you can admire Papyrus’ scandalized expression. You have no idea _how_ he manages that bug-eyed look but it makes you laugh every single time.

“Yeah,” Sans joins in, “Maybe they just happen to admire his _fiery_ passion.”

“THIS IS THE WORST NIGHT OF MY LIFE!”

“But, really, can you blame me for falling for him?” You flash a grin full of teeth. “His body is _smoking_.”

Papyrus screams slowly and Sans gives you a thumbs up, encouraging you to continue.

“I’d talk about what he looks like in the shower, but the topic is a little too steamy for polite dinner conversation.”

Sans devolves into gut-bursting laughter—well, assuming he has a gut to burst in the first place. You grin, proud of yourself, but when Sans continues to laugh—even going so far as to pound his fist against the table—you begin to feel unnerved. While you know the guy genuinely enjoys a bad pun more than anyone you’ve ever met before, even you can acknowledge the joke isn’t funny enough to warrant _that_ kind of reaction.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the clearing of someone’s throat from behind you.

“Your food,” Grillby says simply as he sets the plates down at your table.

You stare, wide-eyed and mouth gaping. There’s an uncomfortable pause as he meets your gaze, looking back at you and saying nothing. You have no idea how much of that conversation he overheard but there’s no question in your mind that he definitely heard you talking about him in the shower.

“Enjoy,” he says then heads back behind the bar.

“Oh my God.” Your face is so warm. “ _Oh my God_.”

“Why’d you stop? Keep ‘em coming, kid; you’re on fire.” Sans nudges you with his elbow. He’s either unaware of your suffering or unconcerned. “Unless you’ve already burned through all your material.”

You just groan as you slam your head against the tabletop. “I can never come here ever again.”

“Well, if you can’t take the _heat_ …”

You glare at Sans. “DON’T.”

Sensing your distress, Papyrus places a gloved hand on your shoulder. “I, for one, think it was very brave of you to confess your feelings! Even if Grillby doesn’t feel the same way. Because, even though you didn’t get to go on a date with him, at least you can say that you beat him at romance!”

“But I…” you trail off, not quite sure how to respond. That’s not’s what happened _at all_. Or even how romance works, for that matter. Still, you appreciate his efforts to cheer you up even if he’s completely missing the point. “Thanks, Papyrus.”

After a few more seconds of wallowing in self pity, you decide the best way to get over something that bothers you is by completely ignoring it. You pick up one of your fries and take a bite.

Sans slathers his own fries in ketchup and Papyrus makes a bunch of disgusted sounds as he watches his brother eat. All and all, it’s a pleasant evening.

When Grillby comes back with the bill, all your anxiety returns to you in a hot wave of stomach-turning embarrassment. You bury your face in your hands just to avoid eye contact. You peek from behind your fingers when you hear Grillby walking away.

Sans grabs the bill, looks down at it for a moment, then grins wide as he looks back up at you.

“What are you smiling about?” you ask. “Did Grillby give us a discount out of pity?”

“Not quite,” he says as he tears off the bottom end of the bill and sets it in front of you.

You pull your hands from your face and look down. Written in messy script on the tiny scrap of the torn paper is a phone number. You look up towards the bar where Grillby is nonchalantly cleaning a mug. He catches your gaze and it’s hard to tell since his head is a giant flickering flame and this might just be your imagination but you _swear_ he winks at you.

You blink, face hotter than it’s been all night. “Oh my God.”

“Congratulations. You two make a good match. And, word of advice,” the white pinpricks of light in Sans’ eye sockets twinkle, “Bring an extinguisher with you on your dates if you want him to put out.”

“OH. MY. _GOD_.”


End file.
